


Swords and Shield

by pretentiouskneecap



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brienne is the Best, Canon Compliant, F/M, Jaime is a lovestruck fool, Post ADWD, its fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 15:09:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16098197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretentiouskneecap/pseuds/pretentiouskneecap
Summary: Winter has come, the North desperately tries to withstand the Others, and Brienne is not going to let Jaime go into battle without her.





	Swords and Shield

Brienne roughly opened the door, trying to kept a hold of her temper but rather sure her suspicions were about to be affirmed. Surely enough, she found Jaime sitting on the edge of his bed, looking up at her in resignation, hand stilling from where it was struggling to tie the laces of his boot. 

She felt anger burn within her, from her feet up to her mouth, clenching her jaw so hard she was unable to speak. She stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and cupped the underside of his jaw, bringing his chin up to look him in the eyes. Furious, she hadn’t realized quite how close that movement would bring them, how vulnerable his position was with her leaning over him, her hand on his neck. But he’d made no movement, no flinch toward his sword or anything that would indicate he was afraid of her, of what she could do.

 _He trusts me_ , the thought dawned on her, something she had already known in her bones but hadn’t truly accepted until this moment. _After all we have been through, after I betrayed him, he trusts me still._

She gentled her touch on him, let her thumb caress the gold and silver hairs growing ever thicker on the side of his face, and felt her desire to protect him fold in upon itself like steel being forged, strong and unbreakable. In this she would not fail. Jaime trusted her not to hurt him; she just had to convince him to trust her to protect them both in battle as well. 

Through all of this he gazed at her silently. She had made to attack but he made no move yet to defend.

 _Your move, my lady_ , she heard his voice in her mind, as clear as if he had spoken right in front of her. A year, a month ago she would not have presumed to touch him like this, to make the first move in their dance. How much they had both changed. 

“You will fight the Others, a commander of the living,” she said finally, with conviction, “and I will be by your side, whether you grant me permission or not. Do not think to disappear into battle without me, Jaime. Our blades were made from one; they will be together as they face this foe, and so will we.” 

_The Kingslayer and his Whore_ , she thought, but kept it to herself. She had not heard the term in a while. Sansa had forbidden the name Kingslayer’s Whore as soon as she’d heard it, with her siblings strongly behind her. Jaime’s golden hand had helped to enforce the sentiment more than once, to Brienne’s exasperation. The term Kingslayer was seldom heard anymore as well. Brienne’s displeasure at the moniker was well known by now, though _she_ was considerably less flashy about it. As it stood now Brienne rather suspected Jaime’s bravery against the Others and commitment to his men, northern and southron, may have more to do with it. _The Golden Knight and the Blue._

She paused, satisfied with her play, and waited for his response. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly in sardonic amusement, a familiar and promising expression. His sigh ghosted over her gloved hand and under the fabric her fingers tingled. She felt herself grow warm as his hand rose to settle on hers.

“You swore an oath to keep me safe?” he asked wryly, but something in his eyes told her he was not looking for an answer, “If you are determined, I suppose there is no escaping you now, is there, wench.”

Brienne ignored his unsubtle attempt to needle her. She had won this bout.

“This is how it was meant to be,” she said, and let all the certainty she felt pour into the words. All her life she was unsure: of herself, of her place, of how to not be a burden and to prove herself worthy of any righteous cause she could find if she could not be the lady of Tarth she was intended to be. She was different now than she was when she had set off from Tarth. She had fought and lost, learned the true nature of honor from a man and betrayed him, then kept him safe and fulfilled his quest. Her face and body bore scars, but she had brought the lady of Winterfell back to her rightful home. She was no longer the young girl who had believed that stories were true and good would always prevail. But in this moment, she knew in her core that she and Jaime could weather the onslaught of the Others like the cliffs of Tarth withstood the crashing of the sea, so long as they remained together.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea where this came from. I was reading an old JB fic by ellaria and it just kind of happened. This is the first fic I've posted to the internet since the days of quizilla like a million years ago when I didn't even know how to write, which is absolutely wild. Whoever's read this, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Comments and constructive crit are very welcome!


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